After Effect
by Nevara Alyss
Summary: Will Shepard find them?  Can Shepard find them?  After suffering grave injuries in the battle Shepard deals with the inevitable and denies the possibilities.  What will she find when she does?  New ending to ME3.
1. Near Death's Crossing

A choking gasp of breath filled Adryan's lungs. The stinging sensation as they expanded to take in the volatile air around her shot her up in a convulsive fit of coughing and gagging. Blood soaked sputum splashed on broken remains of cement and muddied earth. Slow trickles of red ran down the splintered ground into a small pool at her feet. Burnt flesh and still smoldering fires permeated the air with its undeniable aromas.

Adryan wiped her mouth with a shaky hand and tried to stand under her own power. The sound of voices in the distance made her will to move stronger now. They grew closer as she took another staggered breath and winced in agony as she pushed herself up. Her head spun along with the ground beneath her as she straightened up and took her first cautious step.

Searing pain shot through her abdomen and nearly brought her to the ground. She lurched forward, her hands clutching the source of the pain. Slowly, her black eyes fell to her guarded torso. She pulled her hand away and saw the vibrant sanguine clashing violently against her scorched palm. The large wound stood gaping in the overcast sunlight. She grimaced at the damage and pressed her hand into it again.

"Damn it," she groaned as she lurched forward.

Her thoughts wandered along with her in hauntingly blurred gaps. She couldn't remember how she had gotten to where she laid or if she had finished her mission, but from the calls of soldiers in front of her she figured something catastrophic had happened. Their tones were ominous as they called out names of people. Yet, the one thing she didn't hear was the sound of gunfire that rattled the sky with its undeniable cadence.

She lifted her hand as she walked through the fog of smoke. It didn't matter, the burning of her eyes made her vision blurry as she meandered among the ruins in a daze. The slow tick of her medi-gel being released made her jump. Limping forward, her legs began to give out before she wanted them to. She growled in anger as she forced herself to continue.

Bodies in contorted positions dotted the near vacant street. Some were torn completely apart, the only thing it could have been was the nearby corpse of the brute that was feet away. Its pungent aroma overrode the smell of boiled blood and cooked meat in ways that made her senses seem unbearable. She didn't see anyone she knew as she examined them briefly. Piles of bodies of differing races littered the ground in haphazard heaps.

She shook her head at the nightmare inducing sight and forged headlong into a familiar location. Her memory flashed to the hours before. The giant metallic corpse of the reaper siege weapon had crushed several buildings under its weight. She stopped briefly and rubbed the agonizing pain from her thigh feverishly. It worsened as her hand swept across it; however she wouldn't acknowledge the truth of it. Her mind explained it in full detail.

The left flank had been completely decimated by Reaper forces. Many fell in the battle as was proof of the mangled bodies riddled with bullet holes and numerous heat sinks were cast on the ground from the squad's fire fight. Banshees were overrunning them as they await the arrival of the hulking steel beast to arrive. Her squad was strong till the end. Squad. Her squad. She was so proud of them in their moments of danger and feared for them in the same breath. It was in those final moments she had thrown Vakarian down to the ground as a marauder opened fire from the right. Even though she had taken a ricocheted round to her thigh, she didn't let on to anyone that she had been injured. She didn't want them to worry about her. Their heads needed to be in the game.

Her heart picked up as she tried to find some small clue as to where they were. She hadn't thought about it till that moment how very alone she was. Anderson was nowhere in sight. There was nothing. As if they had vanished as soon as they had gotten to the beam.

"Garrus? Javik?" she yelped. Her voice was hoarse and pained her throat as if she'd swallowed glass shards. The force was enough to send her reeling into another fit of coughs, followed by more blood being emitted from her wounds. "Fuck!" she belted in agony and leaned against a building till the pain ebbed again.

She caught her breath, but the dizziness grew in intensity. Blood loss, shock, the punishment her body had been under just a few hours before was taking its toll. It would only be a matter of time before the adrenaline would wear off and she would be in a far worse state of grave danger than her life had teetered on in her previous bouts with death.

Suck it up, she thought as she heaved her tiring weight off the brick wall and continued forward.

Every few feet became a new challenge for her. In the multitudes of fire fights and the rain that had poured down on them in the dead of night, the familiar battlegrounds had become new and unforgiving on her bearings. Store fronts that had given them a brief respite from cover fire were no longer reliable landmarks. Her eyes burned with tears of frustration as she hobbled down a ladder and walked through the parking garage where the brutes were dead.

She remembered this place from the evening before. It was the awkward silence that drove home the point again. Something had happened in the hours of her unconsciousness and the sickening realization sank into her gut. No one had come looking for her. And if no one had, were they even still alive? The thought of dread made her pace quicken to a near jog. Injuries be damned, she was going to find out what happened.

Walking back into daylight, she hurried along the torn up avenue to where they had started the final assault. The nearly decimated building loomed over her, but there was no sound from within. Her heart sank at the notion that there were no survivors in the FOB. Many of the Makos were burned out shells. Charred bodies hung out doors as if people had tried to escape a massive explosion. The once important barricade had fallen exposing the inner workings of her final hours.

Adryan slid a sheet of metal out of the way and maneuvered her broken body through the small opening. The boulevard was empty in all directions. She stood in the intersection to let the anger of her calf become a sheered pain that grew worse the more she put weight on it. It had to be broken at that point. She frowned at the prospect of such an injury and the fact that she hadn't heard the medi-gel being dispensed any longer made her fears all the more visceral.

She tried to use her omni-tool to no avail. It flickered until death before giving her any information on her status. She was defeated in an instant by it. Everything had become a clusterfuck so immeasurably fast that her only options were to give up or press on and take the risk of running into more trouble in the immediate future. Anderson would have wanted to force herself on as well as Garrus. Hell, if it had been anyone else she would have forced them to continue forward. There was no quitting. Not when she had worked so hard to get to where she was now.

"What are the final reports stating?" she heard Major Coats question.

She squinted in the direction of his voice and began following it. Her quickness to find him or anyone was rewarded with more pain and an increased trail of blood behind her. The fog had become the thickest but saw the shadowy movement just beyond. She wanted to know what had happened in the aftermath of the war as much as anyone else.

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't under the parched conditions. She groaned harshly and picked up the pace. Her hopes were riding on everything that had come before. Promises made that she refused to break on account that it was her future she had fought for. Mordin had been right. You couldn't anthropomorphize the galaxy. She fought for herself, her crew, her lover, the unborn children that none of them would have if they failed. Even with the odds totally against them she had the will to face down her demons with every fiber of her being. It was what she was meant to do. Not just as a leader but as a person who through all her faults found solace in the fact that either by death or completion of her mission she would have endured.

The hardships witnessed were on a scale that seemed insurmountable to the person who couldn't cope with the emotional backlash it would have created. Each problem seemed to cascade out of control by the end and she was feeling the effects of it as anyone else would have. It was only natural to show that even if you had to lie to yourself to see a hopeful return until you believed it doesn't mean that eventually those that knew you aren't going to realize that you are burning your final bridges to distance yourself from the possibility of the inevitable.

She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back and let it sink in that she had been lying for the sake of morale – more to herself than to the crew. Everyone knew that this was likely a one way trip, but so was the suicide mission or the flight to Ilos. This should have been no different.

"What the hell happened?" she asked out loud. "How come I can't remember where everything went wrong?"

"Commander?" a familiar voice called to her.

Slowly, her head came back to center and opened her eyes to see someone coming towards her. His sooty face beamed with a grin as he approached. The closer he came the sooner it dwindled into a look of horror. His eyes were large and grew wet as he stopped. Several other bodies joined the fold.

"Steve?" she murmured.

Energy coursed through her. The overwhelming urge to move forced her to run towards him. Her broken body shambled quickly along with the hitched sobs she was trying to hold back. Just before she got to him her leg gave way with a solid snap of her remaining bone. She stumbled forward into his arms. For the briefest of moments she thought she heard herself laughing as the new dose of adrenaline flood her blood stream.

"Shepard?" Jacob spoke up, his arm hung in a sling.

"I'm alright," she muttered.

"Bullshit, Shepard! What the hell are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?" Jack snapped angrily.

Adryan knew it was her way of protecting herself. Her eyes spoke the truth. Everyone was worried. In all honestly, she had no idea how bad her injuries were, nor did she care at the moment. She coughed again and grumbled as she hocked the phlegmy liquid on to the street. The sweet taste of blood coated her tongue and as her vision became hazy, she glanced at Steve. She could feel the hot liquid pooling in the back of her throat.

"The – the Normandy," she choked out. "What happened to the Normandy?"

The group looked at each other and then at the Commander who was now beginning to slink to the ground. Cortez led her down as gently as he could and held her. She began to shake violently. The air grew cold around her and she gasped. She lifted her hand away from the wound in her side and stared at it briefly. A faint smile crept across her face. She was accepting her fate. So much trauma. Not enough time to get medical attention. All the thoughts she could muster in the matter of a few slowing heartbeats.

"We don't know, Commander," Steve replied. Adryan's eyes began to close as she felt the ending drawing nearer. A sharp jostle shook her awake. "Don't you die on us, Shepard." His voice was becoming shriller as he fought to keep her awake.

"Shhh. It's okay, Steve," she assured him softly. "Just find them."

He pressed his hand into her wound and looked up at Jacob and Jack. She didn't feel anything anymore. No emotions, or guilt, or pain. Everything washed away as she began to bleed out in his arms. She cracked a smirk at the notion that maybe her luck had run out. It was only a matter of time, she knew it. Borrowed time was all she had ever been given and she had been given a lot. It gave her the ability to experience things she didn't think was possible for her. She loved and was loved in return and in her final moments the idea still terrified her. After Akuze she didn't think it would be possible and she wouldn't allow for it. Too much of a liability but she was thankful she was given the chance to experience it again.

"Fight damn it!" Steve yelped as her eyes closed for the final time. "You'll find them. Hold on to that!" He shook her again, but with his voice fading into the darkness that had been so familiar and so alien, she knew that the fight was finally over and her labors had come to fruition. "Get the goddamn medic! Medic! No! No! No! We need you. He needs you! I need you!"

I'm sorry. I'm proud of you. It was her final thought before falling into the abyss. She wanted to live, but after everything, she didn't think it was possible to continue.

Good-bye.


	2. The Things She Said

"We have a patient crashing!" a weary looking medic yelled as he and three others tore through the makeshift hospital.

A salarian doctor hurried over and waved them along, his shrill voice spouted off questions as they ran through a double door. Steve and the group that found Adryan were hot on their heels to gather as much information as they could. From the look on the senior medic's face, things didn't look good from the start.

Shoving their way past the door and down the corridor surrounded by the sounds of flatlining monitors and sobs from refugees and survivors they came to a second set of double doors. Floodlights and emergency generators lined the walls, cascading a wholly unnatural glow in the crumbling building. The overpowering smell of antiseptic and blood tainted the air with its aroma.

The small window in the door flashed brightly as people scurried around the room beyond. He could see them trying to cut her out of her armor, the slow drips of blood that fell off the side of the table and puddle on the floor below. Everything was moving in slow motion as he watched them work. It was rushed like a frantic dance. People working in conjunction with each other gave him little solace as they maneuvered quickly to assess the situation more critically.

"Steve," Jacob's voice droned. "There's nothing we can do here."

The pilot turned and nodded. Their hands were virtually tied with helplessness. He pushed past them without a word at a complete loss. He looked at his hands and saw the sloughing brown flakes falling to the ground before him. Fresh red spots dotted the heavy trail back to the front of the hospital. The din was inescapable as were the images as they walked into the dimming light.

Hints of rain and petrichor carried on the noonday zephyr, washing away the burnt smells of the ruins that surrounded them. The small piece of forgotten normalcy led him away from the entrance to a small clearing nearby. The dead field of grass had become a makeshift base for remaining personnel. The few remaining Makos sat along the perimeter with tank operators doing maintenance with several krogan spouting off snide remarks about the fragility of the human's vehicles, much to the chagrin of several nearby captains on a smoke break.

If it hadn't been for the heaping masses of fallen Reapers off in the distance the feeling of galactic peace and stability would have been more prevalent. The united forces had done a hell of a job and those that remained in the immediate aftermath carried on with living, either for the future or the fallen. Even though the feigned smiles and camaraderie were helping those cope with the devastating losses, it was just a fact that everyone there had lost someone they knew last night. There was no way to deny it and it would have been naïve to think otherwise, given the circumstances.

"Esteban!" James yelled from across the street. Steve looked over at him with a frown as the hulking soldier approached in a huff. Sweat dripped down his reddened face, his eyes wide with surprise. "I heard over the comm that you found Shepard. Where is she? They wouldn't give her status."

Cortez straightened slightly at the memory of finding the commander. On one hand he was delighted that they had found a survivor, yet on the other what he came across was horrific. She was barely recognizable. She was coated from head to toe in deep red blood. Her hair was caked in it and the injuries were something he couldn't shake off.

"She was redlined into surgery," he tried to explain with as strong a voice he could muster. James looked past his friend indecisively. The large mass of human shifted as if to move around him, but Steve stepped in his path to block him and shook his head. "It," he stammered. "It didn't look good."

"Fuck," James muttered in exasperation.

He flung his helmet to the ground angrily and paced several times before stopping with a concerned glance. Steve watched his eyes scanning him and eventually took notice at what had grabbed the soldier's attention. The cool dampness of his uniform hit his skin as a strong gust hit him. His pants were saturated turning the once blue BDU's into a dark shade of purple. His arms were smeared with it up to his elbows. Circular stains from Shepard's violent coughs had hit him squarely in the chest.

In the moment he hadn't even realized it. Not that it mattered. The damage was extensive and he knew that he would be a mess regardless of who he found. However, he hadn't considered that it would be his commander's blood he'd be bathed in.

"When is the rest of the squad checking in?" Steve questioned.

He wanted to shake the thought of what he'd witnessed from his memory, but in the back of his mind it clung as freshly as if he was there again. Maybe it was the guilt from not having the answers for her that made the pain more real. He could have lied, or should have to keep at her peace, but that wasn't what she would have wanted. Odds were she would have known, regardless.

"The few that we know about should be returning in about a half an hour. I know Major Coats has them doing perimeter sweeps for survivors," Vega replied. "It'll only be a matter of time before this becomes a recovery operation. We're finding fewer people and more bodies with each passing hour."

The stood silently for several minutes before James was called away to give his field report. There were no goodbyes in this case, nor did they really want to acknowledge what was probably looming on the horizon. It just didn't feel right to write off the possibility of another death to a person they knew in such a short amount a time.

The clouds grew fiercer and heavily inundated with water. The beginnings of a rainstorm began with a fine mist that turned into a deluge of large drops that drenched Steve from head to toe. Flashes of lightning streaked the sky above him as he watched the stains darken again and run off down the sidewalk towards a nearby gutter. It was a morbidly refreshing shower that chilled him to the bone. Several soldiers ran across the field for cover, but others just stood there washing the dust and grime from their bodies. Wide smiles greeted warmth from their surrounding neighbors. Something about how rain renewed life even if it was the smallest of rewards was peaceful to witness.

When he was satisfied with the natural cleansing from Mother Nature and sopping wet he ran for a covered area and plopped down at a table. A couple of nurses came running from the hospital asking for donations of A negative blood. A few of the soldiers volunteered without question and hurried off to donate as if they were heading back into battle. All Steve could do was sit and contemplate things and wait for news. He thought Robert would have been proud of his actions and if it had been him Shepard would have done the same thing. She would have hauled his ass up and if need be carried him back herself. It was just her way. She would have done it for anyone.

Three hours passed then five, then eight. The day teams were returning in staggering numbers. He knew many of them and as soon as they saw him they came to the table and asked about Shepard. He didn't have an answer for them. He was flying blind just as much as they were and it left little hope. One by one they sat at the table but said little. People that had served with Shepard took solace in the company that surrounded them.

By 1700 hours it seemed like everyone was there. It was strange to see so many congregating around sharing stories about the Commander. Kaidan told of Shepard's near suicidal victory over a thresher maw on foot. As he reminisced about the audacious attitude she had, he rummaged through his belt pouch and exposed a holo. It flickered to life and showed the growing audience their exploits. Adryan stood with her assault rifle tucked into her side a cigarette jutting from her lips with a look of satisfaction. He turned it off and hid it back in his pocket and smirked.

"There are three of them. I have one, Garrus has one, and she has the last one. It was a pretty spectacular fight and one at the time I wish we hadn't gotten into, but she explained to me later that it was to show that we were capable of pretty much anything when we didn't doubt the odds," he explained with a small chuckle.

Each person took a turn around the table, sharing their tales of how Shepard had helped them or their combat experiences. They all agreed that she was crazy, just out of her mind insane, but she got the job done with exceptional proficiency. She was a sister, a mentor, a friend that had survived insurmountable odds countless times and by the time they had realized all the evidence of her near immortality it gave them pause.

The smiles faded and none of them seemed to be able to look at each other in the eye as if they had been defeated. The whole feel of the conversation had changed as they absorbed the combined emotions of the group Major Coats and Admiral Hackett walked to the table. Several marines jumped to and saluted. Hackett looked as if he'd aged ten years. Weariness and devastation wore heavily on him as he placed a bottle on to the table and ordered Coats to get enough glasses for the group. He sat between Jacob and Grunt and placed his hat on the table.

They all watched him intently, but there were no speeches to be given at that point. All he muttered as he rubbed the weariness from his eyes was that he had heard that Shepard had been recovered and wanted to be here to hear the news himself. As soon as everyone had their glasses a small amount of brandy was poured and they all looked ill as it sloshed in the bottom.

"You know, Shepard told me she had an allergy to alcohol once. One drink was usually enough to floor her," Kasumi chimed with faux excitement. "Strangely enough I didn't believe her after watching her throw back half a bar's worth of top-shelf booze."

"Shepard had a strange presence about her. If you knew her you were changed irrevocably," Samara mentioned, sliding the glass away from her.

"Yeah, you were either alive or dead," Grunt chuckled. "There was no way of changing that."

The return of silence encapsulated them in a cold blanket. So many words, multitudes of actions, not enough time. As Steve looked over their faces and grimaced. He didn't want to mention what he had seen to everyone. It was strange to hold something back like that. His own memory flashed of his conversation with her at lunch. She had begun to show signs of fatigue but anyone who had questioned her about it were waved off with a gruff, "I'm fine."

She had been asking him about how he was feeling and discussing what loss was to her.

"_It was the hardest thing to witness," she muttered moving her food around her tray. "I lost a fiancé that day." She shifted uncomfortably on the bench across from him and frowned. "Everyone knows about Akuze and the casualties, so many people who had a whole future ahead of themselves to look forward to. And the bullshit shouldn't have happened to begin with. How the hell were we supposed to know? And now no one knows. Just me. My burden to bear it seems," she stated with a shrug._

"_What burden?" Steve asked, setting his fork down._

"_Murder," she snapped coldly. She peered up at him with hollow eyes. _

"_We know Cerberus was testing the thresh maws," he assured her. "There was nothing you could have done."_

_She blinked several times and rotated until she had propped up against the wall. She rested her head and folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes closed as if she was reliving the moment._

"_No," she murmured softly. "I murdered him. I put a bullet in his brain to keep him from suffering. He was dying already, but there was nothing I could do to save him. I tried. I really did. But…"_

_She sat motionless for a few minutes and let it sink in. She opened her eyes and glanced at him. She shook her head slowly and ran her fingers through her hair._

"_Shepard," Garrus questioned lightly._

_A small smile crossed her face as she moved her feet and allowed the turian to sit beside her. She kept glancing out of the corner of her eye at him and while Steve thought it was harmless he noticed the smallest of details that he wouldn't have noticed when they were out in the field. They were always so business like on the shuttle but this small twinkle in her eye changed every detail about her. He pondered if anyone had caught him with that same look when he was near Robert and it was endearing. The most innocent amount of happiness could be found in the most awkward of places. She seemed to relax around him. She was less guarded by him and yet there was fear. As if she truly couldn't let that small part of herself enjoy it._

"What had she called us once?" James stood with his glass in hand. "A family?"

"The 'royal dysfunctional family,'" Jacob corrected. "Anyone on the Normandy was a part of it. And those that weren't were just as welcome as long as they didn't find themselves on the receiving end of her muzzle."

"Then a toast," Hackett said and stood with a raise of the glass. "To kinship. No blood ties are needed when you've stared down odds like you all have. While death may separate those that you care for from the physical they are there in spirit and those that we have lost will be forever known as the gatekeepers to our future."

"To Mordin," Major Kirrahe saluted. "Ultimate sacrifices are never final; they endure for the cause."

"To Thane," Kaidan announced. "Though I didn't know him well, he would have made any Alliance officer proud to have served under him."

"To Legion," a lone geth prime droned. "Without him we would not be free."

"To the Normandy," Miranda chirped remorsefully. "Whatever realm of skies it traverses may it always find home."

"To Commander Shepard, the most unbalanced, fearless pain in the ass we've ever known," Zaeed toasted.

Everyone laughed, because the mercenary was for all intents and purposes right. Adryan had a way of needling people into giving a damn. Hardened soldiers seemed deflated by the thought of her passing away. She had that way about her though. She gave a damn and under no uncertain terms did she make you not. Your reservations were hers as were the fears, outbursts in anger and elation. She had touched all these people in some way, marked them as if she claimed them by just being there.

The lone swig of alcohol hit their throats with the final contemplations and condolences complete. There were so many others that deserved to be saluted and each one of them would remember them in their own time. It was their sacrifices that gave birth to something completely unknowable. They didn't know if the future was going to be brighter or if everything would come crumbling down around them. But this night they were taking their hats off, just for a little while to thank them. No ranks or experience could change that they were all people under the uniforms and armor. They were all equal in emotions and doubts.

A lone doctor approached the group and stared at them without any real acknowledgement. She cleared her throat, startling the throng of people at the table. Each shot up, eyes wide by the atypical interruption they had been waiting for.

"Dr. Chakwas, what's the news," Hackett questioned abruptly.

"Grim but hopeful," she stated. "The damage was extensive. Internal bleeding, crush injuries, gunshot wounds, compound fractures, and she lost her spleen and a kidney. A punctured lung, third degree burns over forty percent of her body. The list goes on and on." She paused and poured herself a glass of brandy before continuing. "She's very lucky under the circumstances. It's highly likely that if the squad that found her had shown up any later - she would have expired. The only concern we have now is that some of her implants are beginning to fail, but we can't extract them without causing more damage. Another doctor and I are keeping an eye on them at the moment." She slung the brandy back and shook off the burn with a choking gasp. "We've got her in a medically induced coma at present and with these archaic conditions we'll keep a close watch over her. If you want to see her, I'll give you a few minutes. But after that you'll have to leave. I can't have anyone introducing unnecessary pathogens into the room."

Everyone followed behind the exhausted doctor back through the hospital and donned surgical gear before they could even enter. In a single file row they entered alone. Some spoke a few words; others just stared in silence in quiet contemplation. Steve was the last to go in. The sounds from hours before seemed like a distant memory, but the smell seemed to reignite everything from before. He grew anxious as he pushed open the door. Dr. Chakwas came up from behind him and nodded that it was alright to proceed.

The slow hiss of a respirator was slow and even nearing a quarter beat slower than the heart monitor. The doctor ran her omni-tool across Adryan and clicked her tongue once. Steve was shocked by the scene when he pulled back the curtain. There were so many lines sticking out of Shepard that she was nearly unrecognizable. IV lines protruded from her arms, some running deep violet into her along with clear saline keeping her nourished.

"I heard you were the one that found Commander Shepard," Chakwas stated as she adjusted the drip rate of Adryan's IV.

"I was," Steve replied.

"You can get closer. It's not like she's going to break any more than she already is," the doctor snorted with a gentle pat to the commander's hand. "And thank you."

She looked like a mother in silent prayer over her child. Tears ran down her cheeks and she cursed herself for her unprofessionalism. A stifled laugh escaped her as she tried to cover it up, but the damage was done and she excused herself abruptly as she hurried from the room.

And then he was alone. More alone than he thought he could ever be. In the dim light he maneuvered closer to Shepard. Her whole body was wrapped in gauze and the pungent smells of ointment and astringent seeped into his pores the closer he got. The breathing tubes that protruded from her veiled face seemed to cover the majority of her small skull. Somewhere under all the hospital equipment and lines that were keeping her alive was Adryan stuck in a dreamless slumber. He thought it was the luckiest bit of information to have. She wouldn't remember this, but he would; as would everyone else who knew her. It would all be there cross to bear and the secret that they all knew would be revealed in time.

"You told me to fight and live and since I can now order you to do the same I'm reciprocating the sentiment. People still need you here and out there," he murmured more or less to himself. "I just hope you can forgive us for our selfishness in not letting you finally rest."

Steve wiped away the few tears he had and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He couldn't believe he was leaving her under his own power. It was like her strength had transcended into him in small doses as he exited and held tightly to tattered threads of hope that she would recover.

"Any word on what happened to the Normandy?" he heard Hackett ask from down the hall to a battered ensign.

"None, sir. We can only speculate as to what happened. From what we know, several of the crew and Shepard's squad were onboard. Major Coats reported seeing a shuttle landing back from their position and picking up the turian and an injured prothean before meeting with the Normandy. After that they were lost in the firefight," the ensign stated, handing over a datapad.

Admiral Hackett saluted and excused the weary soldier before throwing the datapad on the counter with a sigh. Steve pulled the mask off and began to leave before Hackett stopped with him with an icy stare.

"Things aren't looking good for the Normandy. When Commander Shepard wakes up, she's going to have many questions to answer," the admiral curtly remarked.

"I doubt she remembers, sir. She was asking about the Normandy before she lost consciousness," Steve said with a look of concern. He stopped short of blurting out his next thought.

"But she was in fact alone when you found her?" the stressed man questioned.

"She was," Cortez muttered.

Admiral Hackett grumbled to himself before rubbing his beard in exasperation.

"Permission to speak freely, sir," the pilot asked.

"Granted," Hackett said without looking at him.

"She's going to probably have a lot of questions as well; shouldn't we have some answers for her?"

"When we have them. Right now all of us are fumbling around in the dark. And I hate being in the dark. Hopefully by the time she's awake we'll have more and she'll begin to remember," Hackett stated.

He sounded so unsure of himself when he said it that Steve hardly seemed to believe it. He knew things were bad. Infrastructure was torn to hell. Communications were intermittent. Supplies were dangerously low and in the middle of it all was an underlying sense of dire dread. If and when Adryan woke up she'd be thrown straight into another plight that seemed to be a worse set of circumstances than a war with the Reapers. Odds were they would want her help to see it through, but in the end would she want to when she realized that things had fallen apart faster than a cosmic bullet.

Steve pardoned himself silently and returned to his bunk. The rhythmic song of Shepard's life dangling by a thread seemed to make everyone unable to sleep. Instead they told their stories again, each one sounding more illogical than the last, but they all came to the agreement that was who she was: completely illogical.


	3. Repose

Four months later…

Adryan sat at a table under the beating London sun. The strange pricks of warmth graced her bare flesh in almost forgotten sensations that rippled along her body. She sat in silence, inhaling the cigarette smoke and expelling it casually into the noonday air. Her eyes burned behind her black sunglasses, but she managed to keep the majority of her attention on her surroundings.

The impromptu military installation had shrunk in size in the following months after the battle. Most combatants were shipped to other bases of operation to aid where necessary. The London base seemed to be running on a skeleton crew. Maybe thirty to forty soldiers were stationed there; the majority was security operations, medical officers, and engineers working toward repairing basic infrastructure.

As for Shepard's friends, many had moved on to other locales. The bulk of the forces had moved on to mainland Europe to instill a sense of order. Others returned to their prospective races to render assistance in the stressful time. Most had come to see themselves off while she was bedridden, offering words of healing and promises of return when the need arose. Adryan was touched by it, but all she could do was shake her head and write on a datapad that she'd asked enough of them and wouldn't want to burden them further.

"Enjoy the future," she told them. "You fought for it."

Now as she sat on the cusp of her thirty-third birthday, her leg still in a cast, taking in the view from a picnic table. She thought of being out with her squad, combing the streets with idle chatter to break up the monotony. Anything would have been better than where she was now. She wasn't meant to stay on the sidelines and watch while others carry on with their duties. She was meant to be on the frontlines fighting the good fight. But where is that, she thought.

"Commander Shepard?" Chakwas called sternly.

Adryan's eyebrows lifted with amusement as she took another drag of her cigarette. The inevitable reprimand for her habit was going to unfold, but she stood fast as she let out a small chuckle and blew the smoke out again.

"I'm fine, Doctor," she muttered. "Just enjoying the outside world."

"While killing yourself slowly," the irate doctor snapped. "I didn't spend hours in surgery trying to save your life just so you could dispose of it when you see fit."

"If I was going to do myself in," she pulled her sidearm and placed it on the table in front of her and glanced at the doctor looming above her. "I'd rather it be over quickly." Adryan holstered her firearm, stood up and propped herself on her crutches. She locked eyes with the doctor over the rims of her sunglasses and smirked. "And the shrink seems to think I'm stable enough for active duty once I'm off these stupid things."

"Do you think you're ready for it," Doctor Chakwas questioned, folding her arms with a stare. "Returning to active duty, I mean."

Adryan took the final puff of her cigarette and dropped it on the ground in front of her and shook her head. A small cough came from her as she maneuvered from the table. The slow hobble to the sidewalk took more energy than she thought it would, but she managed. The question lingered along enough for her to look over her shoulder and shrug.

"When was I ever really given a choice?" Adryan uttered coldly. "It'll be a cold day in hell when I finally achieve what I've fought for. Until then, I'll keep fighting. It's all I've got. And it isn't a question of whether I'm ready or not, either. It's whether my hopes can sustain me long enough to necessitate such a choice. Besides, you only live once, right?"

Four months later…

Adryan sat at a table under the beating London sun. The strange pricks of warmth graced her bare flesh in almost forgotten sensations that rippled along her body. She sat in silence, inhaling the cigarette smoke and expelling it casually into the noonday air. Her eyes burned behind her black sunglasses, but she managed to keep the majority of her attention on her surroundings.

The impromptu military installation had shrunk in size in the following months after the battle. Most combatants were shipped to other bases of operation to aid where necessary. The London base seemed to be running on a skeleton crew. Maybe thirty to forty soldiers were stationed there; the majority was security operations, medical officers, and engineers working toward repairing basic infrastructure.

As for Shepard's friends, many had moved on to other locales. The bulk of the forces had moved on to mainland Europe to instill a sense of order. Others returned to their prospective races to render assistance in the stressful time. Most had come to see themselves off while she was bedridden, offering words of healing and promises of return when the need arose. Adryan was touched by it, but all she could do was shake her head and tell them she'd asked enough of them and wouldn't want to burden them further.

"Enjoy the future," she told them. "You fought for it."

Now as she sat on the cusp of her thirty-third birthday, her leg still in a cast, taking in the view from a picnic table. She thought of being out with her squad, combing the streets with idle chatter to break up the monotony. Anything would have been better than where she was now. She wasn't meant to stay on the sidelines and watch while others carry on with their duties. She was meant to be on the frontlines fighting the good fight. But where is that, she thought.

"Commander Shepard?" Chakwas called sternly.

Adryan's eyebrows lifted with amusement as she took another drag of her cigarette. The inevitable reprimand for her habit was going to unfold, but she stood fast as she let out a small chuckle and blew the smoke out again.

"I'm fine, Doctor," she muttered. "Just enjoying the outside world."

"While killing yourself slowly," the irate doctor snapped. "I didn't spend hours in surgery trying to save your life just so you could dispose of it when you see fit."

"If I was going to do myself in," she pulled her sidearm and placed it on the table in front of her and glanced at the doctor looming above her. "I'd rather it be over with quickly." Adryan holstered her firearm, stood up and propped herself on her crutches. She locked eyes with the doctor over the rims of her sunglasses and smirked. "And the shrink seems to think I'm stable enough for active duty once I'm off these stupid things."

"Do you think you're ready for it," Doctor Chakwas questioned, folding her arms with a stare. "Returning to active duty, I mean."

Adryan took the final puff of her cigarette and dropped it on the ground in front of her and shook her head. A small cough came from her as she maneuvered from the table. The slow hobble to the sidewalk took more energy than she thought it would, but she managed. The question lingered along enough for her to look over her shoulder and shrug.

"When was I ever really given a choice?" Adryan muttered. "It'll be a cold day in hell when I finally achieve what I've fought for. Until then, I'll keep fighting. It's all I've got. And it isn't a question of whether I'm ready or not, either. It's whether my hopes can sustain me long enough to necessitate such a choice."

* * *

><p>The night seemed to drag on longer as she sat in her bed. Staring out the window, she saw the moon coming over the broken remnants of buildings in the distance. Small picturesque snapshots of serenity would be dashed as her eyes moved across the horizon to a shadowy unnatural mountain. Large tendrils prominently pointed toward the starry canvas of the heavens. It defiled the feel of the scene by its mere existence.<p>

Adryan tucked her leg under her and glimpsed the datapad on the bed in front of her. She bit her lip nervously at the report she'd been asking for since she'd been off bed rest. She had to keep herself busy and playing Skyllian Five became more a routine than shooting the breeze with soldiers.

Steve was around less due to transporting troops to other parts of the European theater. Every other week he came to visit her for a couple of days before shipping out again. He insisted that he was trying to get stationed full time in London as a fighter mechanic, but Hackett sent him where he was required. Adryan approved of it. She wasn't going to be an anchor, tying him down. She wanted him to have a life. She was happy that he was making a difference. And now that she was on the verge of being discharged and returning to active duty, she would miss him more. As much as she loved Joker like a brother, Steve was a horse of a different color. There was an affinity there that managed to work well between the two of them. They were siblings, but she saw the lieutenant on more of an equal ground than Joker.

Kaidan visited rarely. Their last conversation ended abruptly when he admitted that he couldn't bear the thought of losing her again. When she pointed out that she was still alive and breathing, it mattered little to him. He didn't want to go through the roller coaster of emotions like that. She knew she had been touch and go for a while, but she had made it through the worst. But Kaidan distanced himself when she woke up and spoke to him for the first time. It was before she knew the extent of her injuries and the narcotics gave her bouts of narcolepsy that would stop her dead in her tracks midsentence. Her waking moments were confused and scattered, causing questions to be repeated just seconds before. Even if he had answered, she'd be unconscious again without warning.

James was leading security detail and visited for a few hours every day to update her on the situation with recovery and the ongoing investigation of several ships that had disappeared immediately after the battle, including the Normandy. He was losing hope with each passing day, even if he didn't say it; she knew it in his mannerisms.

She learned a lot about the three men just by their actions. When you can't speak you acclimate to your surroundings by sight. They were terrified when she was unwrapped from the piles of gauze, mortified when her chest tube was removed, and aghast at the intubation tube coming out along with gags and expulsion of clots she vomited up when the tube hit her gag reflex. She wouldn't deny them the disgust – she had it, too.

Five ships just vanished in the blink of an eye. It flabbergasted most theorists but some assumed they had gone down in the fighting. It was a reasonable explanation, but with no irrefutable proof, the inquiry remained open.

That's what the datapad was full of: speculations, estimated body counts, and supplies. Everything was there that left little to the imagination. Things were dire at best and extinction level at worst. And while she didn't put much stock in such fatalistic predictions, she knew it was a very real possibility that most of the alien races would never see home again.

All due to one niggling detail: the relays were misfiring. Engineers were working on activating the Citadel to gain control of relay functions, but according to the report, the scene that greeted them was horrific. Bodies were stacked feet high making most passages inaccessible with the equipment needed. They had to do clean up before they could even activate life support and it would take months just to make the air breathable due to the toxic gasses from decomposing flesh.

"Hey, Lola," James said with a smile.

"James? What seems to be the problem?" Adryan asked, scooting from the bed and leaning on her crutches. "How was your patrol?"

The muscular soldier shrugged and glanced at the datapad still on the bed. Adryan snorted at it and began to move towards the door. She couldn't sleep, regardless of it James was there and would rather have been moving around outside than propped up in bed like an invalid. She felt around her pocket for her cigarettes and lighter and motioned for the door with a nod.

"Same shit, different day, right?" he replied with a heavy sigh. He looked her over as she placed a cigarette to her lips and followed her out the door. "When are you getting out?"

Before she could answer, a woman called from the station. The red head quirked an eyebrow with curiosity and stopped at the desk. The doctor was reading a datapad and glanced over the top questioningly. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the soldier out of her quarters but Adryan did the one thing she was good at: waving the frustrated blond into continuing her thought sarcastically.

"It's 2300 hours, Commander Shepard," she started. "You should be in bed resting… and not smoking."

"Doctor Janna, I already had this conversation with Doctor Chakwas. You could argue with me till your blue in the face, but you'll get nowhere as it now stands. I'm tired of being in bed. I'm going for a walk and if you want to file it in your nightly report that I was hostile, then do so," Adryan snapped coldly with an equally icy stare. "It might just get me the hell out of here sooner." Her head cocked playfully as a sneer crossed her face. "Now that that's out of the way: what do you need?"

"You're being discharged tomorrow. Depending on tomorrow's scan, your cast will be removed. But there are a couple of tests I want to run in the morning to check on your implants," Doctor Janna explained.

"Fine," Adryan grumbled. "Can I go?"

The woman nodded slowly with a sweep of her hand. The two friends obliged in silence. Meandering out into the open, Adryan came to an abrupt stop and lit the stick jutting from her lips. She inhaled it, held it tight and released with a look of satisfaction on her face. The night air was cooling to her hot flesh as they walked along the sidewalk. The silence was unsettling, but the sprinkles of stars above soothed the feeling with replaced grandeur.

She stared up at it in childlike wonder and thought about what Garrus would have said if he was there. He'd have argued for her to stay and mend, but that disagreement would have ended in her favor as well. When her mind was made up about something there was no way anyone was going to change it, even the turian would need to do backflips just to make her acquiesce. A faint smile crossed her face as she thought about the things they would have done if they hadn't been separated. Those imaginings and desires clung fast sat perched on a shelf at the ready. It would only be a matter of time before things were known for certain and it was the only chance she had left.

"Admiral Hackett approved my N7 training," James stated glumly.

The tone in his voice drew Adryan's attention from the cloudless night to him. She thought he'd be happy at the news, but the look on his face told her otherwise.

"But?" she questioned.

"He said that he needs me here now to oversee some of the rebuild. I'm not an engineer. I'm a soldier. There's nothing else I'm good at," he muttered.

"Hackett isn't asking you to build him a skyscraper, Vega. He needs good people right now. And if that means following engineers or escorting dignitaries around then do it," the commander said as she took a drag from her cigarette. "Think of it like a test, if you want to. You need patience and experience. Just because you aren't fighting on the front lines of some battlefield doesn't mean you aren't doing something important."

"Do you really believe that?" James queried.

"Fuck no. Dealing with bitchy dignitaries is a battle all its own and if you aren't dealing with them, it's the boredom from their sheer existence that'll kill you," she chuckled with a flick of the dying cigarette. "Speaking of which, what are you doing?"

"The races are meeting next week for a summit on our resources. They are having us prepare," James said.

"Good luck with that," Adyan spat as she patted his back.

"What about you? Any news on the Normandy?" James asked remorsefully.

Adryan shuffled slightly as she thought about it. All she cared about was news that would close the book on that chapter of her life, for better or worse. It was so hard some days to hold out the few shreds of hope she had, coupled with the nightmares that flashed in incoherent pictures of the battle. The emotions they stirred had her at worst moments screaming in her sleep. She tried to hide the tears from James the best she could, but she knew that she was weak from her blurry recollection. Waking up in cold sweats in bed, alone, sometimes forgetting where she was. And now she damned that stupid psychiatrist for saying she was fine. It filled her with so much rage that she shook when she took another cigarette and placed it to her lips.

"No," she replied softly.

"We will, Lola. And when we find out we'll all be there," James remarked.

While his words were true, it gave her little consolation. All she could do was thank him and continue walking. The tension was thick with thoughts of their lost crewmates. Even when word reached them that Steve had returned it did little to balance out the frustrations both of them had. Both realized it was a long shot that anyone survived, but that long shot was all they had.

"Commander," Kaidan called from across the street.

She looked up at him and cocked her head with curiosity. He ran to them, with a datapad in his hand. She tried to calm him, but he just stuttered out incoherent gibberish. She placed her hand on his shoulder and tried to make eye contact with him. He kept averting his glances from her, but she persisted till he straightened and cleared his throat.

"What is it, Major?" she asked sternly.

He lifted the datapad and read as fast as he could from it. Nothing but a standard bunch of military jargon, but the last part made her jump back, nearly falling backwards. It was so damn nonsensical.

"Repeat that last part again?" she ordered as if she had heard him wrong.

"You're being promoted to Captain," he repeated.

"Well, shit! Why would they do that?" she questioned with a snide tone.

"Because they want you to lead the summit next week," Kaidan explained. "And because they think you deserve it."

"Token title to save their asses again," she replied flippantly. "I don't need a promotion to do the work I've overseen before. What's the real reason?"

James and Kaidan both looked at her stunned. They could hardly believe she was being so nonchalant about it. In her eyes, she couldn't care less about a measly title that changed little in the long run. She was annoyed at it and would have been less perturbed at the sentiment if it would have been done posthumously, because by that point she couldn't argue the semantics of it.

"You know about the missing ships?" Kaidan asked. She nodded casually and waited for him to continue. "We might know what happened to them. Hackett thought you'd want to head the task force after you are finished with the summit you'll be shipped to the United States to coordinate with the soldiers there."

"Hell, yeah!" James yelped in excitement.

"I want my squad then. James, Steve, you, even – if you want to tag along," Adryan requested.

Both saluted and walked back to the hospital. The three of them had a slight lift in their step and even though the news wasn't the exact thing they wanted to hear, it was something. If they could find out what happened to the missing ships then maybe the darkness and pain would put a lot more minds at ease, including Adryan's.


End file.
